Best Flanked Poems
This bridge has arched the lake's narrows
for a century, flanked on either side
by Autumn trees shedding their faded leaves,
blowing with the first snowflakes
across worn gray stones of my spirit.
Six months ago you felt the first pain.
Now you lie in white sterility
of hospice care, continually exorcizing
the feeding tube, a final tether
binding you to earth,
where the morphine pump wheezes
every fifteen minutes
and missionaries advise prayer
to the strength-less living.
Your a**hole oncologist told me your suffering
was none of my business.
I told him to take his prognosis,
as suffocating as the pine cleaner
lingering like miasma
over hallway linoleum,
and get the f**k out.
From the corner of my eye
I spot a wild rose sprouting on the bank
at the base of a haggard maple,
an anomaly in bleak October,
glaring crimson as my resentment,
angry as the dream when I said,
I'll be your will when yours is gone.
Knowing full well it won't survive the winter,
I give fate the finger
from my dismal perch,
just as I gave you two dozen such blooms this Mother's Day.
I'll see you in Spring,
rises the phoenix from my Summer ashes.
The flurries thicken around me
like a gathering of angels.
With eyes stinging
I toss plucked petals of pennies
into the Judas lake
while wishing as hard as I can.
12/31/18
Categories:
flanked, death, memory, winter,
Form:
Free verse
It stands on a hill overlooking the bay drenched in ocean spray
That cedar shake house where I used to live high above the Fundy bay
A well trodden path leads from its door on to a winding road
Flanked by ditches where Morning Glories and Sea Salt roses grow
That winding road comes to an end at the shore of ‘Evermore’
A magical place where seagulls soar above the ocean’s roar
Lavender walls rise high in the sky through a veil of silver mist
Where the ocean shatters and falls in pieces against those lofty cliffs
And those footprints I pressed so long ago still lead me to this day
To that old house high on a hill overlooking the Fundy Bay
It is a place where the land bows down to kiss the misty tide
Where rolling waves bring memories of the place my heart resides
~~~
Categories:
flanked, house, ocean,
Form:
Couplet
On the gurgling remains of Winter
as she seeps back into the earth
on a path around a lake
flanked by the casualties of winter's breath
cattails...
brown and bent with broken heads
backs turned to the pale yellow corn stock stubble
standing in mud clad fields
that lie beneath scattered hints of green
where a red barn and silo stand in wait
A gentle breeze... a ripple on the lake
cattail fluff floating in the air
a symphony composed by songbirds and frogs
drifts across the land and bubbling streams
that cut across the path
Moss lies abreast the thin skin of winter
still remaining in places
where the sun never shines
A blanket of burnt amber needles
and prickly cones
lie beneath a dark green canopy of pines
impaled by glinting spears of sunlight
where the path...for a momeent...is lost
Thump...thump...thump.. the beat of leather souls
on wooden planks over the marshlands...
The lake erupts in torrents of water tendrils
falling from the wings
slapping the face of the lake
as geese take to the sky...
And beyond the forest of pines...
the oaks and maples
display their new burgundy buds
and the few remaining
leaves of Autumn...
all crinkled and curled
still clinging to the past
on a well-worn path
that circles around a lake
with no beginning and no end
where the seasons come and go...
as do... I.
Written: April 30, 2018
Author: Elaine Cecelia George
Categories:
flanked, nature,
Form:
Free verse
Amadioha the great god of Thunder and Justice
We have gathered at the shrine of Alusi’gwe
To pour libations to you
Even as I do my folk song
Bring me the ogene, to awaken the spirit of my
Forbearers to witness the doomsday they foretold
Give me the udu, to sound out a warning to the futureman
Give me the oja, the special voice of oganigwe the dreaded masquerade
Give the shekere, so that the women of owu can shake their enchanted waist
In love and tranquillity we lived with our neighbours, doing our folk song
Buddha called out to Lord Brahman
Set aside a room for me in the inner chamber
Decorated with beautiful ornaments, to depict love and care
Flanked with candles and incense burner and the beautiful statue of the wise man
To help me escape from the corruption of this world
As I attempt to wake from hatred of neighbours
Focusing on love and purity of heart
Allow me do my folk song living in tranquillity with nature and neighbours
Christed you said you are, servant of the son of God sent from above
Your brother claimed that you are a messenger from Allah
What is this confusion I see, contradicting even your folk song
You came with a sweet tongue of love, yet all I see is terrorism and
A holy war fought by crusaders crushing the bones of the unbelievers
Those who worship idols yet lived a life akin to nature – a life of love
You have created a polarised world of Christed men with less shame for evil
Of religious women without morals
Of Ulamas who feed on the sweat of Almagiris
Oh Christ! is this the gospel you preached on the street of Nazareth?
O! Mohamed is this the Rasuul you preached in Mecca
O! God what we do in your Name, we should be afraid of doing even in the dark
Allow me to return home
To my folk song
In African theism, to the shrines of Alusi’gwe,
To do my folk song with Oganigwe the beautiful masquerade
To solicit corn and groundnuts from old women with sagging breasts
Chasing the kids with a whip in my hand as I wear the mask of the spirit
A spirit of sportsmanship, of equity and love, of fair play and brotherhood.
Allow me do my folk song
Categories:
flanked, culture, dance, god, philosophy,
Form:
Epic
It can be kind of depressing,
living in upstate New York,
because of that damn city,
that grand ol’ attention whore,
I cannot go anywhere
without having to explain
that I don’t live in a borough,
I live three hours away!
Can’t go to vote in November,
without a voice in my mind
reminding me they cancel us,
that it’s all a waste of time.
Can’t expect rights protected,
not in the countryside,
not when Urban know-it-alls
think history has a ‘tide.’
And to top it off the upstate
lands are quite something to see,
overflowing with wilderness,
and quiet, pastoral beauty.
We got thunderous Niagara,
and Letchworth’s massive gorge,
Finger Lakes and wine country,
Ontario’s freshwater shores.
The rolling, lore-steeped Catskills,
shot through with mighty cloves,
the rocky Adirondacks,
break sky with ancient stone,
the grandeur of the Hudson
carves it was through the scene,
flanked by bucolic county,
and deep wilderness serene.
The north has the St. Lawrence,
of Thousand Islands fame,
the central lands have waterfalls,
and are shot through with caves.
The sheer walls of Shawangunk,
the rugged beauty of Lake George,
Champlain with its famous monster,
Lake Placid’s Olympic sports.
Yes, there’s quite a lot up here,
so much for folks to see,
all of it in the shadow,
of that oversized city.
Though now that I think of it,
if the city wasn’t there,
all those ten million people,
would have to move somewhere…
Oh, good lord, no!
Come visit the Big Apple,
it’s a magic place to go,
the finest experience
most folks will ever know!
With skyscrapers, museums,
great food on every plate,
come visit New York City,
I swear to God, it’s ‘great.’
Categories:
flanked, city, culture, funny, how
Form:
Rhyme
"to hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to nature" William Shakespeare, Hamlet, 1601:
Along a path of solitude I tread,
flanked on either side by watchman trees,
a lush green canopy above my head,
in foliage the flutter of cerise. . . .
I gasp to see two cardinals appear.
Then farther on, I spot a white-tailed doe!
She calmly meets my gaze and shows no fear.
I can’t imagine in this place a foe!
The trees, unwounded, stand with dignity.
And whether skies be bright or overcast,
they guard this realm, and one will shelter me.
I kick off shoes and stop for a repast.
Now barefoot and relaxed, I write this poem
in quietude of Mother Nature’s home.
For The Tree contest
sponsored by Constance La France ~a Rambling Poet~
For Brian Strand's
ANY OF YOUR 2011 poems any theme/any form max 16 lines Poetry Contest
Categories:
flanked, nature
Form:
Sonnet
On the streets of lively Mumbai,
Close to the sandy Juhu,
They serve Chaat and Masala Chai,
To make your heart go Yoohooo!!
The English, Locals and Arabs!
Jews, Africans and Chinese!
Gather to the aroma of the herbs,
And to relish the Indian Cuisine!
Vending stalls have lined the route,
As the natives and tourists wander in,
Flanked by cycles, bikes and touts,
Amidst the music and the din.
This mela of colours and clothing,
Will make a rainbow look white,
travellers in town need updating,
And wear colours that are bright!
It is dusk, and it is getting dark,
the street lights are coming on,
Be warned of strangers in the park!
Hide your wallet, or they will be gone!
Watch the trash, the puddles at feet,
And the stray dogs at your shin,
At every shop a smiling greet,
“Try our food! Please step in!”
Unique, unique is this ensemble,
On the streets of sweet Mumbai,
Where petty human irks crumble,
In the stream of gastronomic joy!
See the Mexican laugh with the Texan,
Over the Goan seafood platter,
Even the Arab and Jew have taken,
A place at the table together!
The leaders at the United Nations,
Who have failed to make a deal,
Must learn from this congregation,
How problems are solved at a meal!
UN policies, treaties at the table,
Have had no effect on peace,
But sandy Juhu is ever so stable,
For people eat and mix with ease!
Let these vendors in Mumbai, Juhu,
Take the lead in creating the peace,
Let their Chai make you go Yoohoo,
And hatred in the world will cease!!
On the streets of lively Mumbai,
Close to the sandy Juhu,
They serve Chaat and Masala Chai,
To make your heart go Yoohooo!!
Categories:
flanked, arabic, beach, color, feelings,
Form:
Ballad
Guarded by towering hills on the East
And flanked by the Arabian Sea on the West
With its easterly shore of stretching sandy swell
That lulls the restless waves to sleep,
There is a land, my land of green vegetation
Nestled among palm trees and paddy fields.
Oh! I am in love with this narrow strip of land
Of rugged hills and meandering rivers
Of placid backwaters and blue skies
Of gibbering monkeys and singing cuckoos
What rich diversity you graciously provide
A land dotted with temples, churches and mosques
Where Hindus, Christians and Muslims cohabit
Where diversity flows through her arteries
And unity beats through her throbbing heart
Here souls dance to the timeless rhythm of music
Of diverse genres, vocal and instrumental
Classical and folk, sung either as solo or in groups
With the accompaniment of (2) 'veena',(3) 'tanpura' and violin
Their varying pitches beautifully synchronized!
In the serene dawns and dusky evenings
The atmosphere gets abuzz with the soft strains
Of (1) ‘Sopana Sangeetham’, the ethnic music of Kerala,
It comes floating from inside the Hindu shrines
Flooding soul’s enchanted shores,
And opening the floodgates of piety
In healing murmurs and throbbing notes,
As the symphony builds up its circuitous round
It descends down as a stream of blessing
Drenching devotees in its moistening sweetness
Like the drizzle of dew drops from heaven
Making hearts ride in the palanquin of joy!
May.21.2023
If your Birthplace- Country was a Poem Poetry Contest
Sponsor - Anoucheka Gangabissoon
This poem is about Kerala, a small state in India, which is my birthplace and its geography and culture.
1.Sopana Sangeetham is a form of Indian Classical music, developed in the temples of Kerala. It is sung, sitting by the holy steps leading to the sanctum sanctorum of a shrine.
2.Veena- a stringed musical instrument, one of the oldest of Indian musical tradition, played sitting cross legged, capable of producing all oscillations of Carnatic music
3. Tanpura- a drone instrument of Indian origin used mainly in a concert of classical music, creating a melodic background, but not a melody.
Categories:
flanked, appreciation, home, music,
Form:
Free verse
Trapped in a sinuous labyrinth,
I run down twisting corridors of well-trodden soil,
flanked on each side
by bushes twice my height!
I go left; I go right;
turning left again, I hit a wall.
For hours I have been inside here running.
Panic is swallowing my soul,
for I am horribly
horribly
lost.
Overcome by my anxiety,
I let myself collapse to the dirt floor
where I sit trying to compose myself,
and as I sit,
I struggle with the puzzle -
how to escape this huge web
with tentacles like those of
of a giant green monster of the sea.
How will I ever find my way
out of this impossible maze?
Afternoon’s glare barely reaches me where
I sit in the gloom of my doom.
Suddenly, the sound of happy voices!
And not just within earshot.
This sound is SO close that were I to just
reach out through one of these large bushes,
I am sure I could actually embrace
the sweetness of the joy I hear.
I have been left and right and all around.
these long paths,
and I refuse again to go down them.
Grateful to be wearing my long pants
and a long-sleeved shirt,
I remove a polyester jacket
which I have had wrapped around my waist.
With the jacket, I cover as much of my body as I can,
particularly my face and hands.
The lovely garden which I had viewed from the road
when I first came upon this miserable maze
is right on the other side of the bush
where I have ended up.
I know it; I just know it . . .
I take the plunge!
June 27, 2020
for Dear Heart's 'Maze - 10 Word Challenge' Contest
Submitted Sept. 14, 2021 for the ''L'' Contest New Or Old Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Categories:
flanked, lost,
Form:
Free verse
Miss Muffet was a girl of thirteen, filled with youth's beauty and charm;
And a love of vibrant life zealous, like eager, vivid thunder of blue alarm.
She was a fine student, pert and popular; like the primrose popularity;
Or stars appearing at the designated hour, sparkling like crystal clarity.
Mary Muffet lived in a small town, with loving parents and her siblings,
Who sympathized with her fear of spiders; like colorful, fall misgivings.
Friends flanked their white picket fence, in fall days of glamour, striking;
And wove fanciful tales with flourish, like flowering genesis, so enticing!
Far off family ofttimes visited Fernglen, with its farms, rich with future;
For fishing and other rollicking fun, staying on 'til varicolored, fall rumor.
They lived in the house of quaint beauty, like charming red, berry sun;
Fondly gazing on pearly moon twice daily, the ritual begun on day one.
Songs sunrise to sunset serenaded, on dappled, silent, Sowerby Street;
But, a scorching summer bled scarlet roses, at the red butterfly retreat.
Near neighbors stayed on a first name basis, in unending, plum seasons;
Of days and nights of green nature; like teal surf, which never weakens.
Summer's glory was in the tiny details, like prayer plants, giving praise;
When sun face orchids, wore sunny smiles, in colored fields of noon haze.
And jade baby toes plants were crawling, through hours of soon history;
In honey days of bicolored hibiscus, filled with heady scents of mystery.
Mary attended a church celebration one day, along with her whole family;
And food was served indoors and out, as pink robin sang of gold, happily.
Mary had such fun playing games! There was much laughter and talking.
Then Mary had a craving for cheese, so like shadows, inside went walking.
Once inside, 'Little Miss Muffet sat on a tuffet, eating her curds and whey;
There came a big spider, who sat down beside her, And frightened Miss Muffet away.'
As Mary screamed and ran, causing a rumpus, she drew a lot of attention;
But, was suddenly embarrassed by her overreaction, like fall's suspension.
Little Miss Muffet was thence more mature, a natural result of getting older,
And fear of spiders was left behind, like summer blossoming, grown bolder.
Categories:
flanked, beautiful, celebration, fantasy, fear,
Form:
Couplet
I caress the blooms of the lilac bush and breathe their sweet fragrant breath. Here in my garden where spring has risen from the melting heart of winter’s death. And when a gentle breeze kisses my face, I am simply blown away, to that magical place, where you wait for me, along the Fundy Bay.
Bare foot, I skip down a Granite paved road, flanked with ditches where morning glories grow, as I move through a mist of ocean brine, streaked with rainbows that melt in the morning sunshine and drip from the blooms of a every Sea Salt rose.
The house - its asphalt shingles, sparkling in many shades of grey - stands firmly on its hardwood pillars buried deep down in the clay, the same clay I mold into a tiny earthen vase, that joins the jars of pollywogs and dandelion garlands, all lined up on the old root- cellar doors, where I play.
And in a cloud of purple perfusion, again, I breathe the breath from the lilac bush that grows there, beside the brook, as those white lace curtains flutter out the kitchen window, and beat against the window frame - fanning the heat from those fresh baked apple pies - as another tear falls from my eye.
Then, from a distant pine, I hear the white throated sparrow singing, her melancholy tune and the clap of the screen door as I step into that room, a child again breathing the breath from a lilac bloom.
“Mom….. ……………. I’m home!”
Categories:
flanked, childhood, nostalgia,
Form:
Prose Poetry
The final step
Someday, lone shall I lie,
Gazing at the starry sky,
Flanked by the shady trees,
And fondled by the cool breeze.
Blossoms shall adorn my grave,
Nothing more my heart shall crave,
Moon beams will linger on me,
Though still and cold I shall be.
No more dreams to dwell on,
Nor any dreams to bank upon,
Nothing to lose, nothing to gain,
Not even my memory shall remain.
As before, the sun shall shine,
Then shall come the rain,
But my heart shall bear no pain
Nor leave anything, that is mine.
May there be none to wipe a tear,
For sorrows no more need I bear,
And only peace shall in me surge,
Nature! When with Ye, I merge.
Categories:
flanked, death, heart, heart,
Form:
Elegy
The Final Home Coming
From where the sky meets the high seas
Talking drums rolled out endless eulogies
As we waited, with the shore’s mud up to our knees
Some even did dance to the rhythm - no apologies
The mangrove flanked aquatic expanse
Its inhabitants in rapturous excitation
Announced the regattas' glorious advance
Even monkeys from trees did swing, in celebration
The colorful seven made haste to the shore
Their paddling, sequenced and synchronised
Each propelled by the muscles of twenty and four
The music, all but the drummers hypnotised
The wailing and drumming crescendos
As the casket is hoisted by each pall bearer
Threnodies and praise songs devoid of innuendos
Rent the air, from those to whose hearts he was dearer
Each relative, the other did strive to outdo
And to this illustrious son, give for at least once
With one good deed, all transgressions undo
Impressing the dead - the mind of a dunce
Priests did read Christian verses and made recitations
His soul, confused and standing with arms akimbo
As witch doctors also did chant incantations
Knew not which way led to Heaven, Hell or Limbo
In this carnival of his final journey home
He’d also sailed the metaphysical realm
Maybe, on tranquil seas that do not rage and foam
His first and last without control of the helm
Categories:
flanked, celebration, confusion, death, farewell,
Form:
Quatrain
Walking along this long
and a lonely road
Completely flanked by tall trees
Blossoming with rich berries waiting to
be plucked
Blossoming with flowers waiting to
usher us into a new dawn
With sweet fragrance in the air and
colourful birds singing
With their soft and tender tones in the
cool hour of the day
Calling for a lone lost heart faraway in
the wood
Faraway in the wood, love comes calling
O my darling
Come and meet me under the oak tree
I have been waiting for you all day long
Now it is night
My heart is blazing with distress
In this cool afternoon, every bird sings
itself a love song
Every heart sings a new song
Every wing creature captures her likes
and soars away to the trees and
mountain-top
Every creeping creature religiously mate
beneath the earth before night falls
When darkness covers the beauty of
nature
Walking down to the wood this dark
eerie night
Praying and waiting for you
Under the moonlight and the shade of
the oak tree
To present to you my beautiful flower
and sweet berry
That will usher us into a new dawn
O my darling
Come and meet me under the oak tree
I have been waiting for you all day long
Now it is night
My heart is blazing with distress
All night long my heart longs for you
Crickets rustle out your name
My pretty little Angel
My mouth cannot express what is
written
On the pages of my mind
How I long to kiss your soft and tender
lips
How I long to be sheltered in your arms
when soft rain falls
I am thinking of you O gentle lady
I am thinking of your smiles- the smiles
of an Angel
I am thinking of your eyes- the eyes of a
goddess filled with the colours ofthe
rainbow
I am thinking of your dark hair, long and
flowing like a fountain of water
I am thinking of your lips from which
lovely words flows
O my darling
Come and meet me under the oak tree
I have been waiting for you all day long
Now it is night
My heart is blazing with distress
Categories:
flanked, absence, age, animal, autumn,
Form:
Cowboy Poetry
It blows all around us.
Zig zagging in front of the eye.
A million bits of lemon dipped confetti.
Tapping on the carapace of a life.
Fawn dappled-silver maple leaf- days.
Spotted leopard-howler monkey nights.
Everything summed up in gossamer skin.
Infinity licks the newborns fresco face.
The asp of life threads the eyes shut.
In a generation or two tombstones are forgotten.
No more granite tears meeting salty stone...
or plastic flowers flanked by crows.
The whole damn thing just a paper bowl
filled to the brim with put on.
Life gnashes at the neck with lion teeth.
Sad pitter patter of an actor's eulogy...
Sugaring stumps and bitter moons
every word twists in the air...
Like cancer riding a stream of confetti.
Categories:
flanked, adventure, cancer, death,
Form:
Rhyme